


From The Flames

by flotsam45



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 12:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10697205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flotsam45/pseuds/flotsam45
Summary: After a fire just before Christmas leaves Steve without any surviving family or a place to live, the Barnes family takes in their eldest son's best friend. Bucky's determined to get Steve through this.Warnings for mentions of death, implied depression, vague description of anxiety attack(?).Revised RP from May 2015.





	From The Flames

Steve was eighteen. Technically independent, though still a senior in high school. A long list of medical problems followed him, but he was going to go to college in a year. His mother had been worried for him. Worried that he would get sick or beat up. Especially worried because he wouldn’t be home as often. But that all came to a halt that December. It was a week before Christmas when Steve’s mother, Sarah, had died. Steve wasn’t home when it happened. No, he was out and about with his few friends. On one hand, Steve was sure his mother would be glad he wasn’t home. On the other hand, Steve determined if he was home, he could have done something. His apartment building had caught fire. He had seen the fire trucks rushing down the street, but he didn’t think anything of it. Not until Bucky was walking him home only to find that home wasn’t there anymore. He was the only family Sarah had, so everything they owned, or what was left, was left to him. There was some money, but not a lot. Steve was going to finish high school and try to get a job doing whatever he could. There was no way he was going to art school now. It had been a little over a week since the fire and Steve hadn’t gone back to school yet. He was staying with Bucky and his family. They were always good to him. But even so, Steve hadn’t left Bucky’s room. The oddest thing was the fact that Steve had just been numb to everything. Like it wasn’t real. He hadn’t shed a single tear. He hadn’t said a single word. He had been asked to speak at his mother’s funeral, but he refused. Steve just couldn’t bear to say anything at all, much less talk about his mother. It was Christmas Eve. The Barnes family were gathered in the kitchen, eating and talking. Steve sat in Bucky’s room, staring out the window as snowflakes fell onto the nearby buildings.

 

The death of Steve's mother had shaken Bucky mostly because it hadn't seemed to shake Steve. His friend who used to be so enthusiastic and compassionate was suddenly shutting the world out, barely uttering a word, barely meeting Bucky's eyes the few times he did speak. And it broke Bucky's heart to see Steve like this. 

After dinner, Bucky excused himself, taking the half-cold plate of food up to his room. Pushing the door open, he peered in from the doorway for a moment, before actually entering. "Brought you up some food. Don't think it'll be good this cold, but it's something. You hungry?" he called, putting the plate down on the dresser, glancing over at his friend. At first, he'd been tentative and sympathetic, but that just seemed to make Steve draw himself further away, so Bucky had decided it was best to just be himself, as tacky as that sounded.

 

Steve heard footsteps approaching and he knew it would be Bucky to come and check up on him. Even though Steve had been extremely distant, Bucky still insisted on making sure he was alright and trying to get him to eat. And Steve wouldn't say it, but he was grateful Bucky cared about him. When the brunet asked if he was hungry, Steve shook his head. It was Christmas Eve, but it didn't feel like it. Christmas was supposed to be happy but Steve just felt empty. "I never liked snow very much..." He murmured absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the window.

 

Bucky sighed inwardly, but let the matter at that. He knew Steve would eventually eat, and he didn't want to push him too far. "Yeah?" He walked over to stand beside his friend, and looked out the window. Gently putting a hand on Steve's shoulder to keep his balance as he bent further one way to look at the snow, he hummed thoughtfully. "How come?"

 

"It's cold." Steve answered simply. He vaguely felt Bucky's hand on his shoulder. He wondered if Bucky did that for comfort or if it was just so he wouldn't fall over. Or possibly both. "Cold weather always makes my asthma act up. Snow just reminds me that I should stay home." Steve thought for a moment. For the first time, his eyes prickled with tears and his breath caught in his throat as he looked up at Bucky. "I should've stayed home, Bucky..."

 

Bucky had thought that he'd be happy when emotion returned to Steve's voice, regardless of what emotion it was, but...he'd been wrong. It hurt to know that Steve was hurting -- blaming himself for something that had been out of his control. He looked down at his friend, righting himself but leaving his hand on Steve's shoulder that felt so frail. "There was nothing you could've done, Steve." he said softly but firmly. "The firemen said the flames had spread too fast. You know that."

 

Tears spilled from Steve's big blue eyes as his hands fiddled nervously. "I w-wasn't there. I could've... I could've tried but I wasn't even there..." The blond looked down at his hands before he swiped at his eyes with his sleeve. "No one w-was there... It was just her. S-she was probably so afraid..." Steve's hands were shaking and he tell his breathing was starting to get very off. He would probably have an asthma attack if he didn't calm down but he couldn't care less about that right now. He just wanted his mother back.

 

Bucky put a hand on his knee, leaning on it to crouch down. "Steve, listen to me." he said, more than worried about an asthma attack. Steve was probably right, but that didn't mean Bucky wanted to let him believe it. "If you were there with her, you would have died too. And that's not what she would have wanted for you." he murmured, his hand on Steve's shoulder moving down to rub his back in a lame attempt to calm his friend.

 

"I don't care!" Steve pushed Bucky away from him and stood up, pacing around anxiously. "I'm not gonna live long anyway. I wasn't supposed to outlive my Ma..." Thin fingers came up to run through his messy blond hair as he walked to the window. "I don't know what to do anymore... I don't know where I'm going..."

 

Bucky stood and watched Steve, a pained expression on his face. "Steve..." What was he supposed to say? Not all the kind and encouraging words would bring Steve's mother back, nor would it soothe the teen's pain. "We'll figure it out. You and me." he said. "So don't...don't talk like that."

 

"It's the truth!" Steve turned back to look at Bucky with red, puffy eyes. "D-did you really think... that with all the medical problems I have... that I would live past thirty?" Steve asked, his hands curled into fists at his side. "If it's not from a heart attack, it'd be from picking a fight and dying in an alleyway." His hands knocked against his legs as Steve swayed where he stood. "I didn't have much, Bucky, and God fucking ripped my Ma away from me too! Why did it happen to me? Why cou--" In the middle of Steve's rant, he was cut off by a fit of coughing and wheezing. He felt his back hit the wall as he slid to the floor. Right, asthma. He had nearly forgotten.

 

Bucky was at Steve's side in an instant, shoving the boy's inhaler into his hands. "Christ, Steve..." he muttered, kneeling beside his friend. He could see the truth in Steve's words all too clearly despite not wanting to see it in the least. He shook his head, eyes downcast, not being able to find the words to say to his friend. He wanted to comfort him, promise him that everything'd be alright, that everything was gonna work out...but he couldn't. Not without lying.

 

Steve's eyes followed Bucky as he watched him grab something off his desk before putting it in his hands. Oh, his inhaler. That made sense. Despite Steve's obvious need of it, the blond let it drop to the floor as he continued to take in small gasps of air at a time. "I don't... I don't... w-want it..." He managed to get out, shaking his head a little to emphasize his point. Though he doubted he looked determined, considering his hands were shaking, he was probably pale as a sheet, he was still crying, and he was quite literally dying on Bucky's bedroom floor.

 

Swearing under his breath, Bucky tried to get Steve to take the inhaler rather desperately, but of course, his efforts were to no avail. Resorting to shoving the mouthpiece of the inhaler into Steve's mouth, he looked on apologetically, praying this would work. Pressing down on the canister to release the medicinal air in it, he held it steady.

 

Steve tried to push Bucky off of him when Bucky had tried to force the inhaler on him, but Steve wasn't near strong enough to push the other away from him. As much as Steve didn't want to breath in the medicine, he couldn't hold his breath forever, especially when his lungs were trying to close up on him. And after a few seconds, he was breathing easier. Not perfectly, but better than he was a minute ago. "Get the fuck off me." Steve would have said it louder, but it came out sounding raspy and quiet. Despite this, he still tried to push Bucky away from him with weak, shaky hands.

 

Relieved that the attack seemed to be over, Bucky complied, backing away and crossing the room, giving Steve ample space. "You're her pride and joy, Steve. The look she had in her eyes when she told me about you going to college... She looked happier and prouder than I'd ever seen her." he said lowly. "If only for her sake...don't do this to yourself."

 

Steve drew his knees up to his chest and pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes as he listened to what Bucky said. "I w-worried her. And now... I c-can't even go off to college... I h-have to start working right away s-so I can find somewhere to live and h-have something to eat." Steve sniffled and removed his hands from his face to look over at Bucky on the other side of the room. "I'm sorry, Bucky..." He apologized quietly. "I didn't mean to yell at you... I just... it's not fair..."

 

"I get it so you don't have to say sorry. I mean, it was scarier when you weren't saying anything." Bucky admitted with a forced laugh which he quickly regretted. "And about that thing about somewhere to live and something to eat?" he said raising an eyebrow. "Guess I should tell you this, but you're gonna stay with me, whether you like it or not." He put a hand up before Steve could protest. "I want you to stress yourself over as few things as possible, so you can cross those two things off your list right now. You'll always have a roof over your head and food on the table."

 

When Bucky laughed, Steve forced himself to smile a little bit. He wasn't by any means happy, but if anyone had a chance at cheering him up, it was Bucky. "Thank you." He murmured. Bucky was always good to him. Even if Steve didn't think he deserved it, Bucky would always make sure he was alright. "Still can't go to art school though. Not unless I got some huge scholarship. Otherwise, I couldn't afford it." Steve moved to try to get up only to find that his limbs didn't seem to want to cooperate with him. Either that or the gravity had suddenly gotten much, much heavier. But considering Bucky hadn't changed, Steve assumed the former. He looked over at his friend and motioned for him to sit next to Steve. As much as his brain was screaming at him to shut everyone out, he really needed someone by his side.

 

Bucky smiled to himself as he got back up from where he was, and jogged back on over to sit down beside Steve. Leaning back against the wall, he scooted over so he was just barely touching shoulders with Steve before looking to his friend. He was silent for several long moments before actually speaking. "I know things look really shitty right now, but I promise that things are gonna get better." he murmured.

 

Steve didn't say anything. He didn't want to. Instead, he leaned his head on Bucky's shoulder and wordlessly took Bucky's hand in his own. As his cheek rested on Bucky's shoulder, he was became aware of the fact that Bucky was wearing a knitted Christmas sweater. He smiled a little and snorted out a quiet laugh. "Your sweater looks really dumb." The blond mumbled, squeezing Bucky's hand a little tighter and noting that he was getting very tired. It had to be late. Either that or Steve had just really worn himself out.

 

Bucky nudged him gently, feeling glad that Steve had - just a bit - gone back to his normal self. "Shut up." Bucky muttered. He felt the tension slowly begin to leave his friend's body as the weight he was resting on Bucky grew slowly. "You ready for bed?" he asked quietly, bringing his arm closest to Steve up to wrap around his shoulders.

 

Steve smiled a little at Bucky's response. For a minute, it was almost like nothing happened. Bucky asked if he wanted to go to bed. Part of Steve wanted nothing more than to sleep for six years. A different part of him wanted to stay awake for six years. After a moment of thought, he nodded. He stood up and walked to the door so he could go to the bathroom and wash his face with some cold water and brush his teeth. After that, he walked back to Bucky's room and collapsed on the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin and curling up on his side.

 

In the meantime, Bucky took the plate back downstairs to his parents, and explained what had happened, reassuring them that he was looking after Steve, before returning upstairs, getting into his room just as Steve was tucking himself in. Smiling, Bucky walked over, and leaned over Steve, hugging him carefully. “G’night.” he said, nonchalant despite the fact that he was doing something he honestly rarely did. 

 

Steve was a bit surprised that Bucky had hugged him to tell him good night. Despite this, Steve uncurled himself to wrap his arms around Bucky's waist and hug him as tightly as he could. "Thank you... And merry Christmas, Bucky."

  
  


"Merry Christmas, Steve." Bucky murmured back, absentmindedly kissing the blond's forehead. "Sleep well." he added, pulling away.

 

Steve let go of Bucky and curled back up under the blankets. Bucky had kissed him and, while normally Steve would have silently made a big deal out of it, he was too tired to think on it much. It didn't take him long to fall asleep. The next morning, he was woken up by Bucky's younger sister, Becca, running around and shouting for everyone to get up because Santa had come. Steve groaned and tried to fall asleep again.

 

Bucky had slept well, until Becca had come screaming. But at the same time, he expected nothing less of of her. Sitting up and throwing off the covers, he launched himself at his sister, tackling her in a hug which ended in a tickle fight. A few loud shrieks later, and promises of being downstairs ASAP, Becca ran out of the room. Sighing, Bucky looked to Steve. "If you're not awake from all that noise, I'm gonna be worried." he called over.

 

Steve rubbed his eyes tiredly and sat up. "Your sister has no sense of humanity. No one voluntarily gets up this early." He grumbled, looking over at Bucky. "I think I might go back to sleep for a few more hours. Not that I don't love Christmas or anything, but I don't want to ruin yours. Especially when Becca seems to be so excited about it." Steve shrugged lamely before laying back down and pulling the covers over his head to block out the light from the sunrise seeping in through the window.

 

"You aren't gonna be ruining anyone's Christmas, Steve." Bucky said with an almost playful roll of his eyes. "Becca wants you downstairs, and so do I. "C'mon, up and at 'em." he insisted, going over and tugging gently at the covers.

 

Groaning, Steve sat up again and sent a glare towards Bucky. "Aren't you usually the one who wants to sleep until noon?" He asked, slowly getting out of bed. He didn't want to see Bucky's family. He didn't want to see a Christmas tree with presents underneath. He didn't want to laugh and joke and sing and play. He wanted to just be left alone. But it was Christmas. And Steve didn't want to make everyone else unhappy just because he was unhappy.

 

Glad that Steve was willing to put up with this if only a little, Bucky's smile widened. "Yeah, but only on non-Christmas days." he replied back. "Let's go, Becca's probably about to throw a fit." he said with a small laugh, taking Steve's hand in his own and leading him downstairs. 

The scene downstairs was really like one out of a movie -- the tree, lavishly decorated with presents underneath of all shapes and sizes stood proudly in the living room. When Becca spotted them coming down the stairs, she cheered, turning to her parents and begging to start opening presents now that everyone was here. Bucky's parents looked startled by the fact that Steve had even agreed to come with Bucky, but they were glad nonetheless. They'd been just as worried as Bucky, what with the state the boy had been in, and they bid him good morning merrily.

 

Despite the fact that he had agreed to come downstairs, Steve decided he was going to keep his mouth shut. He told himself he only came downstairs because it was Christmas and Bucky asked him to come. He wasn't there because he wanted to be. Steve held onto Bucky's hand tightly and waved hello to Bucky's parents with his other hand. The blonde sat on one of the couches with Bucky, watching as Becca was practically on her knees begging to open her presents.

 

Bucky kept an eye on Steve, but made sure to react accordingly to Becca's pleads. "Hey, Becca, don't you remember that Christmas is the season of  _ giving _ ?" Bucky drawled, looking at her pointedly. She had an expression of confusion on her face for a long moment, before it lit up in realization, her mouth forming an 'o'. Running to the back of the tree, she pulled out a badly-wrapped box and pranced over to Steve. "This is for you." she said suddenly shy. "Hope you like it. I picked it out for you." And with that, she went back to her parents, who then finally gave her the okay to start on her presents.

 

Steve smiled a little at Becca's pestering and Bucky's slight annoyance. There was no doubting that they were siblings. Thought his smile was replaced with a look of surprise when Becca handed him a box with jaggedly cut red paper covering it. "M-me?" Steve stammered, staring at the poorly-wrapped present. He could slowly feel his face turning red to match the color of the paper. He must have been sitting there with that look on his face for too long because Becca had dropped the gift in his lap before going to work on her own presents. 

 

"You gonna open that anytime soon?" Bucky asked, nodding to the present. "She took forever picking it out, y'know." He glanced over at his sister and parents, who were thankfully focused on getting Becca's presents unwrapped. 

 

Steve's head snapped up to look up at Bucky as his voice cut through his thoughts. "Huh? Oh... y-yeah, sorry... I was just thinking..." Steve apologized. He carefully tore off the paper, crumpling it in a ball and setting it next to him. The box was taped shut in a lot of different places, but Steve was patient in tearing away the tape. Eventually, he was able to open the box and peer inside. Inside the box was a navy blue sweater with dozens of small white stars over it. It looked like the night sky. Steve was speechless for a moment before looking up towards the youngest Barnes. "Becca?" He called quietly. "Thank you for the present. I love it." And it had been almost two weeks, but Steve's lips had formed a genuine smile.

 

Bucky felt the enormous weight that had resided on his shoulders fall away with that one smile. He felt it comparable to the spring sunshine melting away the first snowflake. It wasn't much, but it was a sign and a sure start. 

Becca glanced over, smiling back at Steve innocently. "You're welcome." she hummed politely, before turning her gaze to her brother and sticking her tongue out at him. "Told you he'd like it." she said haughtily. He stuck his tongue out back at her, but he couldn't even feel remotely angry with her childish antics. She'd made Steve  _ smile _ .

 

Steve smiled at Becca's childish behavior. It was funny and it did cheer him up a little. He set the box on the floor in front of his feet before sitting up again. Steve leaned against Bucky and rested his head on Bucky's shoulder as he watched Becca throw paper and screech with joy over her new toys. He wouldn't say he was happy, just content.

 

Bucky followed Steve's gaze and watched his sister too, sitting back and resting his arm on the back of the couch, he put his hand on Steve's head, making a motion there that was something like petting. 

While Becca played with her new toys between opening presents, Bucky's mom walked over, a box smaller than the one Becca had handed him in hand. Wrapped much more properly with a nice bow and all, she held it out to Bucky. "This isn't very much, but its from us.." she said quietly, motioning to her husband. She waited until Steve opened it before saying anything more. 

It was a wooden picture frame, with two spots for photographs. One, she'd put in an old photograph of Steve and Bucky as children at Bucky's seventh birthday party, both roughed up somewhat from the games, but smiling nonetheless. She had left the second one empty, for Steve to fill with a photo of his own.

 

Steve was considering falling asleep on Bucky's shoulder. It wouldn't be bad. But Bucky's mother had come over to hand something to Steve. It was wrapped much more nicely than Becca's present. He opened up the present and stared at the picture frame. One side had a picture of him and Bucky. They were seven years old, but it was painfully obvious that it was them. Bucky's hair was short back then, Steve recognized. "Thank you. It's lovely." Steve said, smiling up at Bucky's mother. "I'm glad you chose a picture where Bucky looks like a dork." He joked, laying the frame down in his lap.

 

Bucky nudged him, an irritated scowl coming to his lips. 

His mother just laughed, and leaned down to hug him. "Merry Christmas, Steve." She ruffled his hair with a smile, before going to rejoin her husband and daughter.

 

Steve noted Bucky's displeased look and it made him a little happier that he could still push Bucky's buttons. Bucky's mother leaned down to hug him and Steve returned the hug, saying "Merry Christmas" before reaching up to fix his messy hair. He leaned against Bucky again and curled up his legs underneath him. Sky blue eyes glanced up at Bucky for a moment before Steve closed his eyes. Maybe he wouldn't sleep, but at least he would rest for a bit.

 

Bucky moved his arm to just drape over Steve's shoulder, and he looked down at his smaller friend. Grateful to his mother and sister for their efforts in making Steve smile a little, he sighed, waving Becca off when she tried to approach to give him his present. He let her open it for him, and made a face when it was a pair of dumb looking Christmas socks. Shaking his head, he decided to put off the rest of his own present opening in favor of just holding Steve.

 

Steve could hear everything around him. Becca chattering excitedly. Bucky's steady breaths. Mrs. Barnes laughing at a comment her husband said. Bucky's rhythmic heartbeat. Everything about Bucky was stable and constant. Steve could never express how grateful he was that Bucky had never left him. Despite the fact Steve was hard headed and very stupid at times, especially when he got into fights, Bucky never left Steve. Pale fingers curled into the material of Bucky's sleeve as Steve held onto him tighter. If he fell asleep, it would be okay. Bucky would be there when he woke up, right? Bucky was always there.

  
Feeling the tightening of Steve's grip, he smiled to himself, and gently gave his friend a comforting squeeze back, as if to just reassure him that he was here for him. Steve meant the world to him, and to see him hurt like this was hard on Bucky too. Vowing to protect Steve from all the pain he possibly could, he tilted his head to lightly rest it against Steve's.


End file.
